


Portait de Matisse en Ceilo

by Missy



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Derring-Do, Getting Together, Humor, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, POV Outsider, Romance, Waiting, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: A local museum is ready to showcase a priceless Matisse, and Shawn gets himself and Gus tickets.  Clearly this means Pierre Desperaux will show up to steal the newly-found, incredibly expensive centerpiece of the showing, and Shawn in turn will totally get to be swept up in Pierre's warm embrace as well as charm him into finally declaring his true love while they return the painting to its rightful owners.Well, at least that's how it goes in his head...
Relationships: Pierre Despereaux/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Portait de Matisse en Ceilo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corvidology](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidology/gifts).



“ART!” Shawn Spencer shouted, slamming into the room, waving a brochure toward his best friend as he ran pel-mel down the wall in excitement. “Art is coming!”

“Shawn,” Gus said calmly. “Art is everywhere. It’s in the subway and it’s on the walls at the police station. Art isn’t coming if it’s all over the place.”

“No! The Santa Barbara Museum has an exhibition coming up. Matisses, Gus, and this brochure I printed off of the museum’s website with three tone ink says they’re price-miss…I think that smeared.” But he grinned. “Priceless art. You know what that means!”

Gus sighed. “Your boyfriend is going to come to town and try to steal one and put our jobs in jeopardy again.”

“Pierre isn’t my boyfriend! Yet!” Shawn said. “But that’s why I scored us tickets to the opening of the showing. He is SO going to show up and I’ll…maybe stop him from stealing anything too big while also scoring a sweet mustache ride.”

“What?” Gus blinked.

“Isn’t that what kissing a guy with a mustache is called?” Shawn asked, and slid blissfully to the seat beside his best friend.

“No, and don’t say that again.” Gus sighed. “I just want you to be happy. Maybe both of you, though I don’t really know the guy too well...”

“You know him well enough to understand that he’s a total master of deception! He robs from the rich and gives to the him! He’s the Mother Theresa of robbers!”

“There are so many things wrong with that sentence,” Gus observed.

Shawn shook his head. “Gus, my good friend,” he said, “don’t be the long, boring story attached to a recipe on a single girl’s blog.” 

“Those are the best part of any blog!” Gus said. 

“No they’re not,” Shawn said.

“I want to know how Aunt Gertie charmed the blogger’s grandpa into wedded bliss!” Gus declared. 

“Gus, please go with me. You won’t regret a thing.”

Shawn Spencer had said that before to his best friend. And he’d probably say it another time, and another, and another, before they were very old men.

Gus sighed, and accepted his ticket.

****

**~~CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC~~**

The gallery was large, beautiful, and crowded. Gus grabbed a glass of wine and circulated among the patrons, keeping an eye on Shawn, who walked from painting to painting like a lost Linus Van Pelt, searching for his proverbial blanket - The Painting.

Finally he gestured toward Gus. “This one,” he said. “This one is going to be the painting Pierre picks up.”

“How do you know?”

“Notice the way the green and the blue collide to make a beautiful reflective puddle that looks like a swamp? The brochure says it represent the financial quagmire of the French government at the moment Matisse painted it. Plus it looks like money. Pierre loves money.”

“Uh huh,” remarked Gus. Then the lights began to dim, and there was a scream from the crowd. Shawn grabbed Gus eagerly, like a kid who knew Santa Claus was finally about to arrive to delight him with the magic of new underwear and a toy train. 

When the lights came back up, Shawn was somehow in Pierre’s arms. “Hello!” he said cheerfully and slapped a wet kiss on his not-quite-boyfriend’s mouth.

“Hello, Shawn,” said Pierre. “You’re looking comely tonight.”

“Hey, you have to buy me dinner before you see me be comely," Shawn protested. 

“Shawn!” hissed Gus.

“Hello, Gus,” Pierre said. He pecked Shawn on the cheek and let him go. “I understand there’s a new Matisse to be seen.”

“Behind you,” Gus said. “Could you please not steal it? I don’t want to have to play go-between for you and my Chief again.”

“She’s OUR chief,” said Shawn.

“Of course not! Why I’ll be on my best behavior,” said Pierre. He looked right into Shawn’s eyes when he said it, and Gus let out a frustrated groan. “I just want to see the painting – and perhaps return it for a nominal fee to the family who lost access to it in the middle of the second World War…”

“It’s like talking to a wall,” Gus complained.

“Please tell me I’m part of the heist now. Please!” Shawn said. 

Pierre sighed. “Do you know how to apply those observational skills to behaving as a proper look-out?”

“I can if you tell me where to look,” Shawn said.

Pierre kissed his cheek. “Handsome, brilliant, incredibly good at lying – why you’re my dream man, Shawn Spencer.”

Shawn grinned. “Thank you, Pierre.”

“Oh my God,” mumbled Gus, who prepared himself for the next phase in an utterly ridiculous scheme.

****

**~~CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC~~**

That next phase was apparently a protracted discussion about the cultural import of art while Pierre made some fast friends among the gallery people. Shawn looked on with pride, while Gus got a bunch of canapés and ate them with relish. 

“So what do you think about Pierre’s master plan?” asked Shawn.

“I’ve heard of worse.” 

Gus might have predicted what happened next – the painting disappearing entirely when no one was looking, under the cover of another power outage. Naturally, Pierre would not be outfoxed. 

“We must keep looking until we find it,” Desperaux said.

“If I were a huge, multi-million-dollar painting, where would I hide?” Shawn asked.

Gus kept eating his cheeseball.

****

**~~CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC~~**

“A crawlspace!” Shawn said. He pointed to a very tiny, black crevice near the high, arced white alcove above the gallery. “It has to be up there,” he said.

“Brilliant!” said Pierre. Shawn listed into his side for a kiss to the cheek, and received one.

“I’ll get a ladder – Gus, you don’t mind crawling, do you?” 

Gus just groaned and braced for a long, dusty trip.

****

**~~CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC~~**

“You know, Pierre,” said Shawn, “I travel very lightly. I’d make a particularly travel-sized boyfriend, if you want someone to take to Europe and show off to the other master thieves.”

“Darling,” said Despereaux, “we’re dangling from the roof of an art gallery with a man holding an axe standing over us and threatening to murder us because we’ve discovered he’s stolen a million dollar painting. I think now’s a poor time to discuss living arrangements.”

“There’s never a wrong time to talk about love! Gus, do you think I’m right?” he asked. 

Gus let out a very long, very loud scream.

****

**~~CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC~~**

*** 

A few moments later, Shawn hung off of Pierre’s arm as their back-up finally arrived. On solid ground with more cheeseballs to stuff into his mouth, Gus tried not to be overtly upset about the situation. It was a long, scary trip down to the floor, and he might have died after all. But the painting had been recovered, and the publicity meant that Despereaux couldn’t do any art-based stealing that evening. But Shawn’s heart, well, that was a different subject.

“So can I call you my boyfriend now?” Shawn asked, starry-eyed as he stared into Desperaux’s eyes.

“For as long as Van Gogh’s art may hang in the warm safety of the world’s universal heart, will I adore you, Shawn Spencer.”

As the twosome happily kissed, Gus wondered if the world’s universal heart had a good security alarm.


End file.
